Move Along
by PirateNamedMoses
Summary: A war was probable, but freedom was definite. Supposed to be definite. [Oneshot. Songfic. Dark. Character Deaths. More Inside. R&R]


A/N: This is my first _finished_ fic, even though it is a oneshot. This is also a slight songfic, if that displeases you, ignore the centered anditalicized towards the last half of the story.

Warning: Character death(s), slight torture, and hinting of slash. Very subtle.

Disclaimers: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or anything of it. TT  
Nor do I own _MoveAlong_by_ The AllAmerican Rejects._Lovely song though.

Flame me, praise me, help me... whatever you like

* * *

**Move Along**

No doubt about it, Jack Sparrow and the Black Pearl are -and always will be- a legend. Needless to say, he and his crew were not the only pirates. Heavens no, the seas were thick with the scallywags. And for every legend, there are those who live in their shadows.

An uprising crew from the Spanish mane, led by the nearly-most-feared pirate known as Captain Midaura. Midaura and his crew were quickly becoming the most destructive, deadly, well-known pirates ever. With an air of never ceasing energy, the pirates managed to raid at least one town every other night.

Not only did they take gold, riches, food and drink; they murdered all who were found inhabited in the city. Save for no man, woman nor child. Before ending their visit to each town, houses and churches would be torched with what became known as "Hell's Fire".

This did not sit well with Jack Sparrow. Never before had anyone even dreamed to rival him or the Pearl. He, of course, had no interest in pillaging every city in his path nor taking the lives of innocent. Sparrow was a pirate, not a cold-blooded murderer.

Not a word was said from the crew about the new band of pirates. No one spoke of it, yet everyone knew. The crew knew Midaura was after them. They knew that if caught, there was an ever so slim chance of survival, even with the infamous Sparrow as their captain, though they never doubted him.

Jack new of his men's (and woman's) unease. Tensions had begun to cloud the ship in a mask of thick fog. Slowly he had bought (or stolen, depending on the price and attitudes of the clerks) more firearm and various weapons. The day was soon coming where a legend would die.

There was only one thing left that Jack needed to ensure victory and to calm his own racing mind; Will. Much time had passed since the two had last seen each other, but Jack was sure that he was not forgotten.

After a three day's journey of smooth sailing to Port Royal and a night expedition to the smithy where he had first seen the Turner boy. Jack wasn't all that sure why he had chosen to go to the smithy to find his pirate-to-be-again, for the last time he had seen the boy, he was set to wed his wench.

Alas, there he was, sitting on a bench admiring what was probably his most recent sword. Apparently lost in his thoughts, the captain had startled Will into his fighting stance. A moments realization passed, and Will dropped his handy-work to the dusty floor, apologizing twenty times over, tripping on his words.

"Jack! I- I, god I'm sorry! I mean, I hadn't expected anyone, and- and.. Wait- what are you even doing here?" Will finally stopped.

Jack gave a half smile before explaining his current predicament. He rolled through is story nonchalantly, explaining the rivalry, tensions, and fears of what is to be. He finished, "I reckon none other would be a better first mate."

Will's face lightened drastically, "You honestly want me as your first mate?"

"No." Will furrowed his brow in confusion.

"But you said-"

"I _need_ you as my first mate." Jack interrupted, emphasizing need. Will accepted almost instantly. The captain had expected some resistance, considering he and Elizabeth were together…

Inquiring further to this, Will eye's darkened. "Elizabeth has.. Left me for another. After two months of living together, I suppose I wasn't up to her standards."

Jack reassured him that leaving his smithy temporarily, or even permanently if things had gone well, would be best. The captain draped his arm around his first mate's shoulders, leading him to the Pearl. To freedom.

* * *

_Go ahead as you waste your days with thinking  
When you fall every stands  
Another day and you've had your fill of sinking_

Freedom. Yes, that was what Jack had planned. A war was probable, but freedom was definite. Supposed to be definite.

But it was gone. The crew was gone. The Pearl was gone. All that was left was Jack and Will, sitting in the dank chambers of Midaura's ship.

A major battle had broken out over sea. Cannon's blasted, guns sounded, and swords clashed. Jack had known this day would come, though he knew perfectly well that he, nor anyone else, could have been ready.

The stories of Midaura and his crew had been true. They used such advanced weapons, rendering Captain Sparrow and his crew helpless. And lord, were these swashbucklers bloodthirsty. They spared no crew's life, taking a revolting amount of pleasure in their pain-ridden cries.

It had been too much to bear. Jack had no intentions of corrupting Will's mind with such images of horror and torture. Not even a pirate should have to see such anguish.

Midaura's crew boarded the Pearl, seizing Jack and Will, ten to one, restraining their arms and legs. Throughout the struggles, Jack cast glances at Will, hoping that he would somehow understand what his eyes were trying to convey; an apology. This wasn't supposed to happen, he knew he was responsible.

_With the life held in your  
Hands are shaking cold  
These hands are meant to hold_

There lives had been spared. Not out of respect or for the code of conduct, but to ensure their victory. Destroying the Black Pearl and the crew was not their goal. Their true intention was to capture Jack, the living legend, and torture him. Keep him on the edge of life, threaten to push him over the line. Make him beg for death. To bring light to their shadow.

And Will; he was noticed. During their battle, Midaura noticed how closely Jack stayed to him. Always endangering himself to look at the boy, letting his own guards down. Likewise, Will continually left his own sword fight to protect his captain when more than two pirates attacked him at once. This had only made their goals sweeter.

_Speak to me,  
when all you got to keep is strong  
Move along, move along like I know you do  
And even when your hope is gone  
Move along, move along just to make it through  
Move along Move along_

Three days had passed, Jack and Will remained in their cell. It wasn't too surprising to find that the ship had one usable brig, considering that murder was more appealing to the pirates then imprisonment.

Once a day, a scraggly pirate would fill two canteens of water, tossing them roughly into the cell. No doubt the water was laced with a sedative to keep the two in check. Will had questioned his captain to why they were given water if they were to soon be killed.

Jack hadn't the heart to tell him the truth. That the water wasn't pure. That they were only being kept alive for the sake of being tortured. Dying while imprisoned was not what these pirates had in mind.

For the past three days, neither slept. Jack couldn't bring himself to close his eyes, for his nightmares to taunt him while he already lived one. Strange though now, how his nightmares even seemed to be preferable. At least in his nightmares, Will wasn't there to feel as Jack did.

The drugs and sleep deprivation was taking a toll on Will. His eyelids drooped wearily and his muscles tensed and relaxed sporadically. It was different for Jack, he had gone through said torment for longer periods of time, his body had become accustomed to it, as if knowing the captain's future.

Jack pushed himself off of the rotting wood, taking measured steps to his first mate. Will watched him dully through glazed eyes. Dropping himself beside Will, he sighed deeply and turned to the tired boy.

"I'm so sorry.." he whispered.

Will lolled his head to see Jack with both eyes. He attempted a grin before stifling a yawn with the backside of his hand. "It's.. alright Jack.."

"I never should have asked you to come."

"Don't blame yourself."

"I knew what could happen, there was no reason to put you in this danger-"

"You needed me." Will interrupted, his words slurred with impending sleep. "I needed you."

Jack smiled at how bittersweet this moment was. _Don't talk to me like that, his mind begged silently. I don't deserve this.._ Will's words had stung him as ocean water in a fresh cut.

Reaching his arm around Will's shoulders, he pulled him closer. "Rest now."

"I won't leave you alone." Will protested, although secretly, he was terrified to let his guard down.

"I'll be here. Watching out for you." Jack said as though it was a given. He felt his heart hammer against his chest, he knew what he had to do. It was the only way.

Will gave in, dropping his head to his captain's shoulder, moving to mold against his side. His breathing became less erratic, becoming paced and even. Minutes passed as three days worth of drugs and sleepless nights overcame Will, his breathing becoming hardly noticeable at all.

_So a day when you've lost yourself completely  
Could be a night when your life ends  
Such a heart that will lead you to deceiving_

Careful not to wake Will (although it seemed hardly possible), Jack reached his free hand into his boot, pulling out a small dagger amongst other smaller necessities. He held it up against the candlelight, the medal shimmered in the soft glow.

It was sharp, clean. It was a knife Jack had taken a liking to on one of their more recent trips into town. The blade was strong enough so the tip wouldn't break off when used. Otherwise, it was an ordinary blade.

Adrenaline was pumping throughout his body, this would be his only chance before their captures came. This is for the best. Everything was for the best.

While gathering the courage to go through with his plan, Will's voice began to ring through his ears. _'You needed me. I needed you. I won't leave you..'_

Jack swallowed, shaking his head at an attempt to erase his thoughts. Looking down, he saw that Will's right hand had gathered the material on Jack's shirt in a fist, hung loosely against his chest.

Maneuvering Will's hand to hold it in his own far one, he slowly reached the dagger towards Will's wrist.

Taking a final look down at the boy who trusted him with his life, he saw how his chest would rise and fall every so often. It appeared as though he almost stopped breathing.

Placing the dagger against Will's yet undisturbed skin, he pulled it cleanly outwards in a swift pull. A crimson fountain immediately rushed from the wound, dripping to the already saturated wooden floor.

Will hadn't moved, hadn't flinched. He was already too lost in drugs and dreams. Placing Will's bleeding hand in his lap, he grasped the other hand and repeated the same solid movement. A second maroon waterfall poured from the gash.

Jack dropped the blade to his own lap, gathering Will's hands in his own. Tears welled up in his red eyes, falling quietly, freely, as was the man beside him.

_All the pain held in your  
Hands are shaking cold  
Your hands are mine to hold_

Kissing the top of Will's head, he apologized. For everything. For bringing him onto his ship in times of peril, for Elizabeth leaving him, for things not turning out as planned, and for caring so damn much.

Will was the only one he trusted. He knew Will would never leave him or hurt him . But he had to go. Jack couldn't give those bastards the pleasure of tormenting him with the only one he cared for. The enjoyment of torturing two pirates that they felt deserved it.

Looking down now, the blood has started to slow it's rush. It pooled around them as an aura, warning all to stay away. He watched as Will's chest remain placid and felt the ghost of his breath cease to be.

Tears began to sting his eyes and blur his vision. It took all of his remaining energy to silence his emotion. "I'm so sorry.."

_Speak to me,  
When all you got to keep is strong  
Move along, move along like I know you do  
And even when your hope is gone  
Move alone, move along just to make it through  
Move along (Go on)_

Specs of soft sunlight began to push their way through the cracks of the damp walls. It was morning, and the torture was soon to start. He had to leave Will, let him go, put the dagger in his own hands. It had to look like a suicide. The stage had to be set.

As imagined, Captain Midaura came slowly stomping down the ship's steps. The redundant crash of each step was meant to give off a pernicious feeling. Jack had shut off his emotions, save for revenge and hatred. The would keep him going long enough for everything to work out..

Midarua stopped before the prison cell, leering down at his prisoners with his yellowing eyes. His hair was brown and knotted madly about his head, a torn leather vest weighted on his shoulders to a contrast of many bejeweled effects. He was all around a typical-looking pirate, nothing specifically threatening about him at first glance.

Seeing Will for the first time, his eyes widened. "Damned whelp! Takin' the fools way out, eh!" he shouted at the motionless body. It took every ounce of Jack's strength to suppress the ferocity rising in his chest.

Turning to Jack, "Yer lover had it easy." he growled towards Jack. The term "lover" had apparently been intended to rouse the ex-captain, judging by how he narrowed his eyes. Midarua waved a hand as a scallywag opened the cell to collect the body.

He couldn't remember standing up. When his mind began to work again, he found he hand the pirate's hand wedged beneath his boot. "Don't touch him." he said seething with rage.

Midaura cocked an eyebrow, feeling pleased with himself that he already managed to strike a nerve. "Alright then. I hope ye' were comfortable fer the last few day's. Those were ye' last times o' peace."

The same pirate pounced at Jack with two others joining, easily overpowering his tired body. Holding his arms back, they dragged him towards the upper deck, though it was not much of a challenge. The scent of saltwater and medal (presumably from blood) was thrown in his face with the mornings strong winds.

Jack couldn't do anything except lose himself in his thoughts. _Whatever torture I receive, I have earned. I've no reason left to live. I'm a murderer, no better than they. Will, if you hear me, please.. Please forgive me…_

He was abruptly shoved backwards into the mast on the top deck, his back colliding with the wood. Stars danced wildly before his eyes with the impact. His hands were being tied to the ropes on the mast while the pirates stood around, jeering and shouting.

"NOT SO TOUGH NOW, ARE YA"  
"Beg for death!"

_When everything is wrong we move along (go on)  
When everything is wrong, we move along  
Along, along, along_

Midaura stepped up to Jack with an air of superiority, instantly silencing his followers. "A legend, eh?" he looked him up and down, spitting at his feet. "Yer not cut out to be a legend."

His eyes never leaving Jack's, he brought his hand from behind his back, producing the blade that Jack had used to kill his first mate. The blade did not gleam anymore, even in the sunlight. It was caked with darkened blood.

A wave of nausea spread from his stomach, seeing his destruction in daylight. _Damn.. They must've taken the blade after I left._ Tears threatened his tired eyes, but he couldn't let them show.

Midaura smiled, "Don't ye' worry. We'll carve ye' out to be worthy." Reaching the blade to the top button of his shirt, he swiftly pulled down , tearing Jack's shirt open. Numerous scars of bullet holes and slashes from swords interrupted his bronze skin.

Midaura took in the sight of the living legend, strung up and scarred. Beginning at his shoulder, he traced the dagger down and across his chest, drawing Celtic swirls. Hot blood began to spill down from the intricate marks, trailing down to be soaked by Jack's pants. The captain stopped to admire his work, he loved drawing Celtic designs on mortals. There was something morbidly sweet about the blood trailing after the blade.

He was careful not to press to hard with the dagger. Too much blood loss would kill the ex-captain. And there was too much fun yet to be had.

Two days had passed since Jack had been tied to the mast. Nearly his entire body was aching with heated rage made by those Celtic designs. His entire chest, back, stomach and legs had bled their fair share. The initial wounds were scabbing while more recent ones dripped sporadically.

He was tired. It had been five days without sleep now, and images continually flooded his mind of Will, laying in the brig in his own blood. Of Will needing him, trusting him… _It was for the best_, Jack reminded himself. _Will didn't deserve what was coming-_

Jack new he deserved this. Deserved every twist of searing pain, every seething thought. Redemption would never come.

His thoughts flew from his mind as something hard made contact with his jaw. With a resounding crack, he dropped his head and moaned. After a moment's pause, he lifted his head to stare down the barrel of a gun.

His vision was blurring, but Jack didn't like where this was going. His jaw was immobilized, presumably broken from the pistol whip. His hand's were being cut loose by a pirate on either side of him.

Jack dropped to his knees, cradling his rope-burned wrists. He would have yelled out, swearing and moaning and crying. But he was too tired. There wasn't enough of Jack Sparrow left for wit.

Though his mind thought otherwise.

This would be his only chance. Right at this moment. This would be the last time his hands would be free until his lifeless body is hung at the bow of the ship for all to see. To prove that the wondrous Captain Jack Sparrow had fallen.

No. Such. Luck.

_When all you got to keep is strong  
Move along, move along like I know you do  
And even when your hope is gone  
Move along, move along just to make it through_

Ignoring the reluctant contraction of his muscles, he leaned back on his hands, kicking out his right foot at Midaura's ankles. The captain immediately collapsed, dropping his pistol. His crew hurried over to their feared captain, fussing over his fall.

Jack took the pistol in his hand, pushing himself off of the deck. He called on his rage and anger to get him moving, to start running.

The shocked Midaura raised his eyes to see Sparrow limping a fair speed away. "GET SPARROW! DON' LET 'IM GET AWAY!" Three pirates acted instantly, leaving their captain to chase the injured man.

Jack turned to see the trio bounding towards him. "Stop, or I'll shoot!" he aimedthe pistol.

Midaura appeared behind the pirates who adhered to the command and snickered. "Ye' got one bullet, an' twenty some odd pirates. What be yer nex' move?" he waited.

Jack's eyes spun madly at the surrounding pirates. The dirty bastard had been right, if he shot at Midaura, another would take the bullet. And that's just one crew member. He dropped his eyes as his heavy heart sank further at the realization.

A notch in the deck was missing, he could see to the storage below him, illuminated by the sunlight. And what did the gruesome pirates have most of?

_Explosives!_ Jack turned to the anxious crowd and grinned, bearing his golden teeth.  
"Wha' in god's name can ye' be smiling' at?" The captain was confused beyond belief. Hadn't the pirate understood that there was no way out of this alive?

Reading his thoughts, Jack lowered the pistol to aim directly below him. "Of course I'll die here. I expect to." he cocked the pistol. "But you're going with me."

And he pulled the trigger.

_(Move along)  
(Go on)  
Right back what is wrong We move along._


End file.
